Everthing is Alright
by inluvwitcurtis
Summary: sequel to Off the Ground, which is the sequel to Love Not Hate...chapter 2 is up...R&R...tm of course
1. Befriending the Bar

**Author's Notes: **_Okay, I've been meaning to write this for a while so here goes. It's the sequel to Off the Ground, which is the sequel to Love Not Hate. Takes place or pre S4 probably going up to pre S5. Please review, even if you didn't read Off the Ground or Love Not Hate. TM…of course…what else would it be?_

**Disclaimer:**_I don't own 24 or its characters…blah blah blah…_

**Everything is Alright**

**Chapter 1-Befriending the Bar**

_Michelle had never wanted to leave Tony…or the house and all of the nice antiques that she had left in it…or the nice hammock that hung from the two oak trees in the backyard…or the satellite dish…but knew she had to. It was hard parting with all the paintings she had gotten from church bazaars for merely two bucks…and her stainless steel fridge…and Tony…but she knew she had to. Her one inspiration to leave was that after the divorce papers were signed, she'd get her fair share of the furniture…and the fact that Tony was becoming a miserable drunk. She knew that when the divorce papers arrived at her old house for Tony to sign, he'd smash all her vases and curse like a drunken sailor…oh shit! Her vases!_

Michelle leaned back in the unusually comfortable airplane chair, sipping her champagne. She had never flown first class before. Bill Buchanan was by her side blabbering on about money and work and money and himself and work and money and himself…and money, but she didn't care. Bill was semi good looking and semi rich and one of the big guys at division, and he wasn't drunk 24/7 and she believed he liked her.

"Attention all passengers, thank you for flying first class with American Airlines. We will be landing in Los Angeles in roughly ten minutes, so please fasten your seatbelts."

Michelle did so and looked over at Bill.

"Bill, do up you belt."

"Boy, I never expected you to say that to me." He joked.

"Very amusing…but need I remind you that we didn't even sleep together?" she whispered.

"Right, right, right…but we wanted to."

"No. You wanted to."

"Come on…the urge has never come to you?"

Michelle shook her head and Bill rolled his eyes and placed his hand on her knee.

"Think what you want to, but I know you wanted to."

Thing was, she had almost wanted to sleep with Bill. But every time he reached for her shirt, she pulled away, thinking only of Tony. She knew she shouldn't think of him, and that she should be over him, but she couldn't just move on from her first true love. But then again, he did push her away and tell her that she was worthless and didn't deserve to be with him.

By the time the plane had landed, Michelle was in tears.

"Chelle, baby, what is it?" Bill asked, almost half concerned.

"Nothing," Michelle answered, getting out of her seat and exiting the plane.

Waiting for them were two giant bodyguards sent from Division holding their bags.

"Mr. Buchanan, Ms. Dessler, follow us please."

She cringed when the bodyguard said her name. It felt like forever since the last time she'd been called _Ms._ Dessler, and not Mrs. Dessler or Mrs. Almeida.

Michelle and Bill followed the bodyguards out into the parking lot and Bill dared take Michelle's hand and hold it firmly and securely while they got into the white stretch SUV that was waiting for them.

"Before we go back to Division, I need to pick something up at the pharmacy on Olive." He whispered to Michelle.

"Okay," She smiled.

The car came to a stop and Bill stepped out.

"I'll just be a second." He promised and she nodded.

She followed him out of the car and stopped suddenly in her tracks as she saw the name of the building next to the pharmacy. Barry's Bar. God was the place still in business?

Michelle shook her head and slowly opened its door, stepped in, and sat down on a barstool. The same barstool she had always sat on all the times Tony had taken her there months and even years ago.

"What can I get you?" A thin, pretty 20-ish bartender asked.

"A beer," Michelle answered, unbuttoning the tweed jacket she wore.

"Wait a second…where have I seen you before?" the bartender asked.

"I don't know, you tell me."

"Oh my gosh…you're Michelle Dessler!"

Michelle looked at the woman with her eyes wide open. "How do you know?"

"You're Tony's ex-wife."

"And who are you?"

"Jen. Just Jen. Nothing else. I'm his girlfriend. Well, kind of. We're on-again, off-again." The bartender sneered.

"Jen…" Michelle repeated, feeling jealous for almost half a second.

"Tony says you left him because you didn't trust him…and because you used him."

"I'm sorry, but I'd rather not talk about this,"

Michelle got up and hurried out of the bar just as Bill walked out of the pharmacy. She gave him a huge hug and he comforted her by stroking her hair.

"Wait! What about your beer?" Jen called.


	2. The Drink That Made Him Miserable

**Chapter 2-The Drink That Made Him Miserable**

_Tony was always toying with the idea of selling his wedding ring. He could burry it in a pot and then dig it up and stain it, just to make it seem old, say it was from 1850, and then go on the Antiques Roadshow to see how much it was worth. Of course that would be very time consuming, and would take a lot of commitment, and he just didn't have the time or energy to really commit himself to anything yet, except Jen if she asked. These days, his days were filled to the top with beer and sports. But not all sports. No longer baseball, for it reminded him too much of his ex-wife. Tony also toyed around with the idea of being married to Jen, for financial purposes. Not that he was the breadmaker in his household, but it might lighten things up for Jen. He always shook his head when he thought of that, because it was rare that he thought of her..._

"How many is that?" Jen demanded as she threw her bag to the floor.

"Huh?" Tony grunted.

"How many have you had?"

He counted the empty beer bottles scattered around the room. "Like, nine or ten." He concluded.

"Great." Jen muttered. "Are there any more left?"

"You work at a bar and you can't steal a free beer?"

Jen shook her head. "If we still wanna live under this roof, I'm going to have to play by the rules. Unless you'd like to get a job?"

Tony shook his head and said, 'bitch' to no one in particular.

"I saw your ex-wife today."

"What the fuck?"

"I saw Michelle Dessler."

"Bitch," he said again. "She left me you know. She used me…"

"I know."

"Did you tell her about us?"

"Kind of. I didn't tell her we were living together…I just told her we were, like, on-again off-again.

"How did she react?" Tony asked, sounding a little more eager than he wanted to.

"She ran out of the bar…without her beer."

Tony slouched in his seat and turned off the TV.

"What do you want to do tonight?" He asked out of the blue.

"Excuse me?"

"Where do you want to go?"

"Go? We never go anywhere."

"Well, it's Friday. Maybe we should go out for dinner or something."

Tony knew Jen would decline. She wasn't a thing like Michelle. She was bitchy and short tempered with a hint of slutiness just squeezed in there. They didn't "make love", they "did each other". Big difference. With Michelle, he would take her out for a nice dinner, and that would result in some kisses, and the kisses into items of clothing being taken off, and that–well, would result in "making love". Jen just assumed that Tony had had a few, and then would say she needed to "get laid" before she went to work.

"How do you expect to pay for this dinner you'll be taking me out on? Jesus Murphy, Tony! You're so stupid sometimes!"

Jen stormed off into the bedroom (not hers, or his, or theirs, just 'the bedroom'), and Tony shrugged.

He got up and walked over to the fridge, where he stared at it for a long time. He opened its door, pulled out a beer and looked at it. This beverage in his hands was the beverage that tore him and Michelle apart. The beverage that caused everything to go downhill. That beverage was the reason why he was standing there, thinking about the beverage that made him miserable.


End file.
